Summer Grass and Bee Stings
by Spring Lotus
Summary: She had told Gin of her desire to stay and work in that small suburb of Yokohama all for the purpose of spending more time with him. He had not jumped at the idea, and instead had expressed an odd enigmatic detachment as he began to remind her of his circumstances, as if she could ever had forgotten. That initial response bugged her for the rest of the day...


Through the years, they would play together in the forest clearings just as they had every year before. What once had been the curious grabbings of a six-year-old had transformed itself into a game of tag that brought them joy throughout summer afternoons. As Hotaru grew older, these games became childish and she began to pursue other activities, like flying the kite she had brought from her grandfather's house. But most of the time she was content to simply lie in the field among the grasses and wildflowers and enjoy cloud-watching in the fresh mountain air.

She and Gin could lay there for hours. They'd talk about Hotaru's days at school. They'd talk about the animals or plants they'd seen that day. They'd discuss the clouds they saw going by and what they reminded them of. Sometimes if she was lucky he'd tell her more about the spirits and demons he lived with in the forest. But as she got older, their conversations tended to get shorter as her childish bubbly nature started to wane, and they tended to just lay in silence; friendly and contented to simply coexist.

On one such afternoon, she had told Gin of her desire to stay and work in that small suburb of Yokohama all for the purpose of spending more time with him. He hadn't jumped at the idea, and instead had expressed an odd enigmatic detachment as he began to remind her of his circumstances, as if she could ever had forgotten. She reassured him that no matter what, they'd always be friends. But that initial response bugged her the rest of the day. Why couldn't he accept her desire to stay by his side? What was the problem? It wasn't as if their situation had changed.

The next day they had had very little conversation walking up to the mountaintop clearing. She didn't want to risk bringing up what had been chasing her mind the night before, and as always, Gin would only disclose what he meant to. But even their silences had become increasingly normal so the elephant between them stayed hidden.

The mountaintop buzzed with insect life, the dragonfly wings glinted in the sunlight and bees fussed endlessly with the pollen in the flowers. Wordlessly they climbed to their favorite vantage point and relaxed into the emerald strands. The hearty breeze swished the tall grass against their ankles and teased their hair, becoming more mesmerizing with each minute. But she was still troubled. After a few moments, she couldn't stand it anymore. "Hey Gin…" she called softly. She received no answer. She asked again, still to no avail. "Did he fall asleep again?" She thought to herself as she leaned up to check. Yes, it seemed so. She laid herself back down with a slightly exasperated huff. She could wait until he awoke.

It reminded her of the time he'd faked being asleep. She'd understood too late back then that he'd been faking, and had been expecting her to try and peak under his mask. She briefly wondered if he'd try the same thing again…she found herself kneeling there by his side, and reaching for his mask in an all-too-nostalgic pose. She lifted up, and expected his eyes to pop open. However, this time they remained shut. He really was asleep this time, and it seemed a very deep sleep. She realized now that this was actually a very rare opportunity – she'd never gotten a clear look at his face before, it'd only been fleeting moments, or a profile, or farther away…never this close, and never this unguarded. She took this opportunity to examine his features, from his thin, sweeping eyebrows; long, dark eyelashes; his chiseled nose; the angular curve of his face… a sudden pang of sorrow reminded her she'd never learn what it would feel like to run her hands through his hair, stroke his cheek, or hold his hand. But at that moment an idea occurred to her. The way the grass swished at her ankles…surely it'd be enough to find out that he wasn't a complete hologram, at least…

She broke off a blade, and steadied her hand. With a deep breath, she lowered it onto his forehead; as light as she could, as she didn't want to wake and alarm him. She made light sweeping motions, trailing from the side of his forehead down through the jawline, caressing yet almost methodical. She made extreme care that she did not accidentally brush a feature with her fingers, or the side of her hand; with her instrument being only inches long, she realized what she was doing was very dangerous.

However, she meticulously continued on. Slowly she came to focus on his lips with her blade. For the first time she hesitated, once she realized what she was thinking. After a moment without letting herself think about the reason, she turned the blade and laid it lengthwise there. With a slight pressure she then lifted it off again, and quickly pressed it to her own. At that exact moment, she felt her heart sink and before she could stop it, a tear from her eyes had landed on his cheek. She was more heartbroken than horrified as this stirred him from his slumber. As his golden eyes fluttered open, she gasped and turned away. However, she was not fast enough for him to not have noticed her tears.

"Hotaru…" He said softly. "Did something happen?"

"No…it's nothing. Just a bee sting." She smiled weakly, concealing her finger inside a fist, doing her best to act hurt.

His eyes searched hers for a moment, as if deciding to believe her or not. Suddenly he moved to stand. "Well, I know where there are some marigold flowers. If we crush them up well enough, that should help take away the sting." Hotaru nodded, and followed along after him. "Then we'll go fishing, will that cheer you up?" She cheerfully agreed.

But for Gin, he understood now that the time had come.

Tonight he'd invite her to the summer festival.


End file.
